Penny's Worth

The Suite Life

Arriving home at 7 PM that night, I was still angry. I knew I was running late, but I'd serviced seven clients that day, more or less using them to take out my frustrations with the harpy and it took a lot longer than planned. I was still dressed in my working clothes. Dave greeted me as soon as I walked through the door.

"How'd things go today?" He looked me over, and I could see a bulge build in his pants when he saw me in a short red dress and my stiletto heels.

"I don't want to talk about it. I had a rough day." I grabbed him and dragged him into the bedroom. I whipped his belt off, hurled it across the room and pulled down his trousers. His cock welcomed me with its stiffness.

"It this Stella or Penny I'm talking to?"

"If this was Stella, wouldn't I be wearing a bra?" I opened the front of my dress and let my boobs out, holding them up for him to fondle.

He remained calm, be enquired, "When will Stella be back?"

"She's getting an all-night manicure or something. In the meantime, put your cock into any one of my available orifices. Your choice, I don't care which one; just fuck something."

I was gently picked up and placed onto the bed. His removed the rest of his clothes and ran his penis into my vagina. It felt good. He began to kiss me. It was what I needed.

"What happened? You're upset."

"I...I got into a fight with one of the women. Remember the redhead from the party?"

"Yeah. Doris or something like that. You argued with her?"

"Darleen. We got into more than an argument. It got physical." My voice was beginning to quiver.

"You got into a catfight? You?"

"I jumped on top of her. She insulted me. Some people had to pull us apart."

Dave began ramming me harder and harder. "I can't believe you were rolling around with another chick." He was apparently excited by the concept of a girl fight, just like the two clients that watched us go at it. "What did she say to set you off?"

My lips began to shake, and I fought the urge to cry. "She called me...she said I was fat." My voice shook.

"Baby, where do you get that? You're not fat. You're gorgeous. You are an incredibly beautiful woman. You have to believe me on this."

"You aren't fat." The other three words every woman wants to hear. "Keep talking. I need to hear this."

He did as he hammered away at me. It worked; I relaxed and let myself go. It took time, but I came in yet another blast. I didn't expect to and didn't think I even deserved it from the way I'd lost my temper. I stopped keeping track of the number of climaxes I'd had today. The angrier I felt, the easier it seemed for me to get off. The clients may have loved it, but in reality, I was just being selfish. Now I was getting off in my husband's loving arms. Dave went to sleep with pissed-off Penny and woke with contented Stella.

~ ~ ~

The elevator rose to the top floor of the Aventeen. Quinn inserted a key card into a slot, and the doors opened into a suite of rooms. Unlike the rest of the rooms, the furnishings here were not outdated. They were sleek and modern. The panoramic view from the window presented a city skyline worthy of a postcard. "Welcome to the Presidential Suite," she said.

We both looked around with a sense of awe. This place was impressive. "You've never been here either?" I asked.

"No, it's always been too rich for my blood. But, if Penny and Bernadette are going to go over as well I as think, this is where we want to showcase them. We're going to charge a premium for their services, and we need to present an elite experience."

Premium was the right term. The giant living room had a grouping of white sofas surrounding an oversized glass topped coffee table. There were two master bedrooms, with doors on each side of a cast concrete fireplace mantle. We'd paid an exorbitant amount of money for the day. I hoped we could make it back and turn a profit.

"Early to bed, early to rise, fuck like hell and advertise," Quinn had joked when she told me about her plans. We'd managed to line up a list of clients for the day by handing out business cards to potential customers. So far, we had a nearly full schedule, but the real success would depend on positive word of mouth.

I remembered Gloria's words of caution. "It's still a gimmick. Celebrity workers are nothing new. Back in the mid-nineties, Rachael and Monica were all the rage. For a while, there were even two sets at the Aventeen. For a while we had a Phoebe. Men could book a double Rachael, if they wanted it. Then the show got old and the acts went stale. Don't over play it."

"We plan to keep it limited and high end," Quinn had retorted. At a thousand dollars for each of us, this act wasn't for the budget minded.

Looking over a few holes in the schedule, I suggested, "The two guys I did with Darlene the other day; they seemed to have money. They might go for a decent girl-on-girl show."

Quinn turned and gave me a harsh expression, "No, absolutely not. Even though we're independent contractors in this business, we never poach each other's clients. Its poor form and it can always come back to bite you."

"Sorry, it's just that Darlene performs like a dead body."

"I don't like her either. However, she's a spiteful bitch. If we plunder her tricks, she'll live to get back at us. If you don't like her, and I agree, she is hard to work with, do what I do - don't work with her again."

"OK, you're right." I tried to be convincing. I hated myself for it, but I'd already agreed to another dual trick. She called me the previous day and before she even said hello, she started the conversation with, "Twenty-five hundred dollars. That is what the Brovloski brothers will pay you to perform with me again."

"But we hate each other." I regretted not hanging up on her immediately.

"Twenty-five hundred dollars. They know we hate each other; they're into it. Again, it's twenty-five hundred dollars. One hour. Be professional."

"Don't spit in my mouth."

"I can't guarantee it. I tend to go with the moment, but I'll try to stick to verbal abuse."

"No, fat remarks."

"Alright. But you are a self-righteous little cunt. I want you to know that."

"And you're a burned-out bogus old whore." We both meant what we were saying. I reluctantly agreed to another session later in the week.

By the time our first Penny and Bernadette client arrived at 11 AM, we'd rehearsed our parts. Bernie had most of the best lines, and I was mainly the window dressing, which suited me just fine.

"Well, Penny, I'm sure Ed here would prefer to fuck me first, but maybe you should get him started." Her voice was high-pitched and a close impression. She'd even perfected the broad blank smile. I had to admit; she was affecting as the character; my motor was starting to run just listening to her.

I pulled out his cock and began a BJ. He rose quickly, as Bernie stood on her tip toes to begin kissing him.

"So, are you ready to fuck me now, mister?"

I interrupted, "So, am I just supposed to watch?"

In a near furious squeal, Bernie said, "That's it, I've had enough of your complaining. I should take you over my knee and spank your ass until you learn to behave."

I continued with a self-pitying whine, until she asked our guest if she should really spank me. The men loved the interactivity of the scenario. My yoga pants were pulled down and my butt cheeks received a nice reddening.

From there, I was forced to make amends by licking Bernadette's cunt. Quinn showed how much better an actress she was that Darleen by convincingly yelping out her orgasm after an appropriate interval.

The third act consisted of the two off us standing naked in front of him and insisting he select his favorite. It was no surprise to me that sixty percent of the time, they choose Bernadette. I knew I would have. The loser, French kissed the winner while she was being screwed and assisted the John in cuming.

By the end of the day, we'd picked up four more customers just based on the buzz going around about us.

Quinn counted our money. "We scored twelve thousand today. Even with the costs of everything, that's thirty-eight-hundred apiece. Not a bad day's work." I could tell she was ecstatic.

Should we add another day?

"No, Gloria's right. We don't want to burn this shtick out. However, I think we can tighten the spiel and wedge another trick in. We need to riff on the play a bit, too, but it's good. Damn good."

We took a long warm shower together, washing each other's backs to help with sore muscles. Despite having licked each other's pussies most of the day, there wasn't anything sexual to it. Darleen had convinced me, I wasn't bisexual. It was just two friend's relaxing in luxury after a long day's work. Even so, I'd had four good solid legitimate orgasms when she was eating my cunt. I'm sure I'll never be able to watch that show again, without getting turned on.

~ ~ ~

The next morning, the two of us sat on the beach, looking out at the blue ocean. Warm, naked and tanned.

"I see your surf rider is out there again."

"He's not mine. I've never spoken to him. I just enjoy his form."

I could tell she liked his form all right. I looked to see that her pussy was slightly damp and it wasn't from perspiration from the heat.

"Why don't you talk to him? He's really cute."

She laughed. Quinn had it all figured out. She always thought she did. "Look at him. He's out here during the day, all the time. He probably works as a part time busboy, has five, no six roommates and can't string more than a half dozen syllables together."

"So, he's a big dumb hunk of beef?"

"I'd want more than that, if I were to put the time and effort into dating a guy. Physical attraction isn't everything."

"But, you do have some physical attraction?"

"Sure, but I'm not looking for a purely physical relationship. I can get all of that I want and more."

This was usually the point where Quinn would go into some deep psychological or political analysis and then we'd head home. That wasn't going to happen today. I watched as surfer guy landed down shore from us. I pulled on a pair of shorts and a tee. I was going to instigate a change.

"Don't move from here. Don't you dare move." My tone was authoritative and commanding. I stood and trotted in the surfer's direction. Quinn sat gaping, still naked, with her mouth hanging open.

~ ~ ~ End of Chapter 4 of 12 ~ ~ ~